Sherlock meets the new Mortician
by therachelleb
Summary: The new mortician at Bart's Hospital gets a rude awakening to Sherlock Holmes. This is a work in progress and currently is just plot and character building. SFW right now but that will change.


_Body Found along the Thames _read the headline. The article went to on to describe how a woman was found when the tide went down on the banks of the Thames. Her body was tied up with barbwire and anchored to a cinder block. The detective inspector hypothesized that the poor woman was alive when she was dropped into the river and died from drowning and injuries from the barbwire. She found the interesting portions of the article and memorized them for later. She dug in her backpack again and found an old apple and sighed as the car came to a stop. She got off and walked in a daze toward Bart's to start her day. She was lost in thought about the unsolved murders and how they almost seemed connected even though no evidence was given in news to link them. She changed into her lab coat and met up with her supervisor, getting debrief on the cases she had today.

She was relieved when she could finally stop talking and walk into the morgue. She loved the silence in the room. It was peaceful for her when she couldn't stop her mind from racing. She had few friends because of her introverted nature and she often found herself having conversations with the bodies she tended each day seeking connection.

Today she had an easy caseload that allowed her mind to wander. She was working with male, late sixties, who died from cardiomyopathy when the door to the lab burst open and a tall slender figure glided into the room. She snapped her head up and found herself looking into blue green eyes. She was startled and jumped back dropping the heart she was holding onto the floor. When she jumped back she was able to see the whole person that invaded her peaceful space and was causing chaos around her lab. The figure belonged to a man, approximately six foot, wearing a long black trench coat, blue scarf, and stylish black suit. He was pale with a sharp face accented by defined cheekbones. The most unsettling thing was how piercing his eyes were. They stripped everything away from her and though they hadn't said a word she felt naked and exposed. She observed this man in a matter of seconds and by the time she gained control of herself this man was already removing his riding crop from his coat and unrolling a recent corpse from the freezer.

"Hey! What do you think you are doing?!" she finally choked out.

The figure glanced her way with indifference then continued on beating the corpse with the riding crop.

"Hey! I asked you a question and I expect an answer!" she stated with more vigor.

"I am not concerned with you, nor do I wish to take time out of my schedule to try and explain to you why I am doing this for your intellect would never be able to comprehend it" the man stated.

He continued on with the riding crop for another thirty or forty seconds while she tried to wrap her mind around if she should feel embarrassed or enraged. When she decided that she was enraged at this man for his obvious putdown he had stormed out of the morgue texting on his phone as he hid the riding crop back into this coat. She was left standing there confused with a body beginning to show signs of trauma hematoma to the arms and abdomen and no idea what to do with it.

She stood there baffled for a few minutes and then decided to try and straighten up the mess that was left in the wake of the storm. She began to pick up the tags that fell off the patients fingers and toes and reattach them to the body. She started to place the limbs back on the table and tuck the feet into the black body bag when she heard the door to her lab swing open again and a strong baritone voice commanded her to "stop touching that body". She immediately obeyed and spun around into the face of that strange man.

He didn't show any inclination of being angry with her he just glanced her up and down and she started to stammer "I-I'm sorr-".

He walked around her toward the body and said "Don't try and speak, it's painful watching your form a thought."

His voice was smooth like silk with a musical quality that struck her core. She found that she wasn't feeling hurt by his comment but more intrigued as to what this man was doing in her lab. She watched him as he pulled out a pocket magnifying glass and looked over the bruises that formed on the body below him. She began to wonder what he was looking for and she found herself closing the gap between them and peering over his shoulder. His body stiffened as her energy invaded his. He stood up suddenly almost smacking his head on her face as she moved out of the way. He turned toward her and focused those green blue eyes on her once again making her uncomfortable.

"You have questions" he stated plainly.

"I-I was just wondering what you were doing here" she stammered. She wished she sounded more confident.

"Working a case and using this cadaver as evidence to prove how a person was murdered" he stated plainly.

"Oh. but how did you get in here?" she asked in reply.

He began to look annoyed and stated hurriedly "because Molly Hooper used to let me in here all the time and I needed a lab that I was used to."

It suddenly dawned on her that this was the man that Molly talked about before she left Bart's to be with her husband, Tom. She was shocked it had almost been six months since Molly left and this man never showed up before. From what Molly had said about him he would've been in everyday and she should be expecting him. She had completely forgot about, what was his name, Holmes something…

"Sherlock" he calmly said from the door as he was leaving "the name is Sherlock Holmes" and he disappeared.

She was left standing confused and alone once again. Her mind was racing and she couldn't figure out what had just happened. The most unsettling thing about the whole interaction was not how he abused fresh cadavers or came and went without a moments notice, no, it was that he somehow knew what she was thinking and answered her before she could even ask him who he was. She finished her cases for the day and waited until the last moment before cleaning up the cadaver Sherlock had been abusing. He did not storm in this time and she breathed out in relief when she was able to leave Bart's and head home. She got the tube absent minded, stopped by the store for some more milk, and then walked home. She got inside her flat and set a pot to boil. She got into her shower and began to wash the smell of death and formaldehyde from her skin. She felt calm and refreshed after her shower and went to finish making her tea as she heard the pot begin to cry out. She spent the evening sitting on the couch watching 'craptelly and found her thoughts wandering to the crazy man who barged in on her lab. She found she remembered more about him than she did before. The way he moved, cat like, and graceful as he entered the lab, his penetrating gaze that seemed to strip her defenses. She felt so exposed when he looked at her. It was like he knew everything about her and she didn't even have to say a word. It brought back that uncomfortable feeling again so she decided to go to sleep.

The next morning she had completely forgot about Sherlock Holmes and began her day as normal. She got to work and started on her daily cases. It hadn't been ten minutes into her first case and the lab door swung open and Sherlock waltzed in. She stood up and made eye contact with him. He broke her gaze and moved over to the tools she had laid out for her case and began taking items off the table and placing them into a black bag he was carrying.

She stared at him for a few seconds and then blurted out "What the hell?"

He looked up and replied "I need these for a case, don't worry they will be returned. I also need to take some eyes for an experiment. Those will not be returned"

She stared at him and then decided it wasn't worth the effort and continued her work. The slim man stiffened when she didn't reply and began to make more noise while picking out the items he wanted.

"Could you possibly be a little more quiet?" she asked annoyed, this was after all the second day in a row her peace had been interrupted.

She caught him smirking just slightly as he turned away from her.

"_God he is annoying, I can see why Molly left"_ she thought to herself.

She continued to focus on her case and almost forgot that Sherlock was in the room until he came up beside her peering over her shoulder and said in his silken voice "It's not that difficult. She died from a aortic aneurysm that ruptured when she fell down the stairs."

She looked up from her work and eyed him curiously. "How can you even know that? I just started" she replied.

"It's not hard to tell. The carpet burns on her knees and ankle show that she fell to the right down probably four or five, no four, definitely four stairs, and judging from the pool of blood in her abdomen an aortic aneurysm is the most likely scenario" he calculated smoothly.

She noticed that she became lost in his voice part way through his speech. She could smell his lavender soap and the stale smell of cigarettes on his coat. She regained her composure quickly but found him eying her reaction with the smallest of smirks. "Well thanks I guess. I still have to complete the autopsy though. What if you missed something?" she questioned.

He stood up abruptly with a look composed of shock that was quickly masked with indifference.

"Very well" he muttered and picked up the black bag, grabbed the student eye dissection jar, and walked out of the lab.

"_This is going to take some getting used to"_ she thought to herself.

An hour later she came to same conclusion as Sherlock, though without the knowledge of the stairs, that came from the patient's husband. She pondered how Sherlock could have known all that just by looking at a patient.

She returned home just as normal that evening. Started her tea, took her shower, and turned on the telly. She began to let her mind wander in her drowsiness and noticed her thoughts turning toward Sherlock Holmes. She began to replay his conversation with her and decided his voice was like dark chocolate, smooth, silken and seductive. She thought about his perfect jawline, porcelain skin, and dark curls. She then nodded off the sleep with images of Sherlock standing behind her and whispering into her ear. She woke up late, threw up her hair in a messy bun, and ran out the door. She arrived at work an hour late and now had cases backed up. She sighed and began her work hoping that she might get a few easy cases to help with the workload. She was so busy she hadn't realized the time and found she worked over by two hours when the lab door opened and Sherlock came sauntering in. He held the black bag and began to put the tools away in their respective place without noticing her. She sat back and watched. He moved with methodical precision, adept hands knowing where each tool went, he seemed distracted and often mumbled to himself. She sat there in awe of this insensible man who was so focused on his task at hand that he didn't realize she was there. She saw a different side of him during those few moments. She could see the puzzlement cross his mind and the hints of some emotion cross that porcelain face. In what seemed like an eternity he finally turned around and faced her. He couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face though it was quickly wiped away and replaced with a cold stare. She just sat there watching him and said nothing. She wasn't embarrassed but did feel uncomfortable with the intensity he was directing toward her.

"I did not know anyone was here. Usually everyone has gone home," he said showing the slightest sign of being uncomfortable.

She sat quietly just watching and listening.

"Well I guess I'll be going unless you want some help with those cases you are working on. Today has been frightfully boring and I could use some distractions" he asked almost inaudibly except that she had been so still she heard the words barely above a whisper.

She just nodded and motioned to the three patients she had laid out next to her. She did not move and let him examine each patient. She sat back and watched how he moved around each body, intent on figuring out what happened to each of them. She became enamored with the little twitches in his face as he pondered different scenarios of the patient's death.

She watched him for what felt like hours but in reality were only minutes. He stood up and looked at her, just looked, this time she didn't feel uncomfortable. His gaze was more of curiosity without so much judgment. She just sat there allowing him to analyze her. His face didn't change while he watched her. He gave nothing away. After what seemed like an eternity he broke the silence, "It looks like the normal. Two cardiomyopathy's which is normal for their age and race and one mildly interesting brain hemorrhage due to a contact sport, most likely hockey judging by the bruises on his shoulders and sides".

She just sat there watching him like a child who wished she could know how he came to those conclusions. As the silence extended on, her gaze never wavering from his, he began to shift uncomfortably and tugged on the cuffs of his shirt and cleared his throat.

"Thanks" she said and got up and started putting the patients back into their bags and rolled into the freezer.

She could feel him watching her but he didn't speak so she just continued on with cleaning up the lab. When she finished she looked up into those intense eyes and just held his gaze. She liked how the longer she stared into his eyes the more she lost touch of where she was. There was something so mesmerizing about how he was able to hold such intensity even when he was clearly becoming uncomfortable. She eventually looked away and grabbed her coat and bag. She walked toward the lab door and could feel him walk along behind her, eyes boring into her back.


End file.
